That is why I smile
by Ifeelfantastic
Summary: In the middle of this nightmare I call my life I experienced something I only thought existed in fairy tales. The tiniest of gestures filled me with feelings I have never felt before, is this what they call happiness? She does not know, but she is the first one to send a real smile my way. More chapters coming.


Why does it never end? Why do I constantly have to suffer through misery like this? Did I perform any vicious deeds in an early life, and now it is all coming back to haunt me? To constantly torment me and remind me of the terrible things I have been trying to leave behind? I never wanted any of this to happen, but for some ungodly reason they did. It is just as they say. You can run, but you can not hide. Whatever you are running from will always catch up to you, no matter what. It is exactly what happened to me. Everybody said this would be a fantastic opportunity for me to start over, to leave everything in the past and pretend like it never happened. But I've been scarred, scarred for life.

It feels like I am beyond salvation. I am constantly finding myself on the verge of breaking down. Their goal is to watch me crumble, but I do not want to give them the satisfaction. That is the single rule I have been holding on to for these past years. Never cry. But it is becoming increasingly harder to follow that specific rule. As I grew older, the remarks became more insulting, the pushing got more abusive and my barriers were weakened.

But did anybody try to stop it? No. Everyone who witnessed the acts of my tormentors just stood idle by and let it happen. I do not think I can blame them though. They are scared of experiencing the same punishments as me. They see how it is affecting me, how devastating every rude statement hurled towards me is. I would never wish this sort of punishment towards anyone, not even my worst enemy. Not that I have any enemies. No one has ever interacted with me, apart from the verbal and physical abuse I keep receiving. I am trying so very hard to not let my emotions shine through, to not let them know how terrified I truly am. But I can barely fight it anymore. I do not know why my parents thought transferring schools would be a terrific idea. It made no difference.

These matters are easier to handle on some days than others. Once or twice a week I might actually be lucky enough to avoid the hurtful words which keep covering my world in darkness. The shoving might be nonexistent for a short while, and it finally feels like I can breathe again. I treasure these moments more than you can imagine. They are my life savers. They give me time to prepare for the next assault, may it be verbal or physical, and it feels like all hope is actually not lost. I dig out the small hint of hope I have left, buried deep in my chest, and cross my fingers that the terribly long nightmare might actually be over. But I am always wrong. It will never end. Because once I am starting to feel safe in the slightest, they strike again.

I remember the first time it happened. Oh, how eventful a simple trip to the park can be, eventful in the wrong way. I wish I could suppress this memory, but it is virtually impossible to dismiss something that has caused me so much pain. It was where everything began, where everything started going down hills.

I was standing at the edge of the play ground, too shy to interact with the other children. Nobody seemed to notice me either, I mean, why would they? I did not want any major attention, maybe just a friend who could push me on the swing, or someone to cheer on as we venture down the slide. But no. What I got was a bully. But not just one. Several. Three to be exact. They saw me standing awkwardly to the side of the sandbox, outside of their little bubble of joy. At first I did not notice when they approached me, but when I did I was filled with glee for a short moment. Maybe these kids would welcome me into their group, considering I was too afraid to initiate any form of contact. Oh, how wrong I was.

When they came close enough it happened for the very first time. I was pushed. Hard.

"Hey! Why are you just standing there like a fool? Are you dumb?" the tallest one of them asked.

I stumbled backwards and nearly fell but caught myself before I hit the ground. I looked up at him. He had short blonde hair and he appeared to be slightly older than the others in the small group. Maybe a nine year old. He was intimidating and was talking loudly, making me nervous. His push had caught me off guard and it hurt. I did not hurt physically, but I could feel the tears starting to form in my eyes.

"Aaw, are you too stupid to reply? Can't you speak?" a shorter dark haired girl exclaimed.

Fear began to slowly consume me. My lower lip and hands were trembling and I took slow and shaking step backwards, away from them. But they just followed me.

"Where are you going? We just want to play." The blonde boy said before he took another step forward and pushed me again. Harder than before.

Eight year old me had never been that scared before. Though the pain and terror I felt at that moment was nothing compared to what I was going to experience in the future. But it was enough to stir the fright brewing within me, causing me to lose my footing and fall. As soon as I hit the ground their laughter erupted. It was the most intimidating sound I had heard so far, it made my blood run cold. The tears were streaming down my cheeks by now. Spurring their laughter on further. The third child in the group, a chubby boy with brown hair who was yet to speak, had troubles breathing due to his mad cackling.

I felt them all looming above me, pointing and howling in amusement on my expense. I felt humiliated like never before and did the only thing I could think of. I ran. I quickly stumbled to my feet, but unfortunately not as graciously as I had hoped which made them roar louder in enjoyment, and let my tiny legs carry me as fast as they could. My unshed tears were blurring my vision but I did not stop until I could no longer hear the terrifying sounds of the evil children. How could they have been so cruel?

The cold feeling of flavored ice brought me back to reality. It slowly trickled down my cheeks, covered my shirt and completely drenched it. Just another day in my wonderful life.

"Haha! Did you see her face when it hit her? Priceless!"

"Heh, yeah, it never gets old."

"Come on, let's not waste more time here, she's not worth it."

The jocks moved forward to leave, but not before violently pushing me into the lockers behind me. Causing me to fall to the floor. They laughed louder, a sound I have grown accustomed to, and threw their empty slushie cups at me before turning around the corner.

I could not move. This bullying was exhausting. My shoulder was throbbing violently from the impact when I hit the cold metal lockers. But I still could not move. I was completely frozen. My eyes were glued to the tiled floor in front of me. I watched as all the students who had witnessed the degrading assault towards me walked away as if nothing had happened, carrying on with their day. Too afraid to help me. No surprise there. Several pair of legs walked past me, but from the corner of my eye I noticed something out of the ordinary. I turned my head slightly and saw another pair of legs. But there was something different about them. They were not moving.

I swallowed thickly and gathered the small amount of courage I had left. I let my eyes follow the jean clad legs upwards, towards the brightly colored hoodie. I forced myself to look at the person's face, to see who it was, and if they might care considering they remained stationary.

I found myself staring into blue eyes almost completely covered behind blonde bangs. Her arms were tightly clutching a binder and a few text books. Her brightly orange colored hoodie seemed to be a few sizes too big, and her hair fell over her shoulders. But what captivated me the most was her blue eyes. They seemed to be full of... sorrow? She was looking right at me. No one had ever looked at me in the hallway before, not without a hard push or a cold facial slushie following afterwards. But this girl, she seemed different than everybody else.

I met her eyes and she did not look away. I felt my breath hitch. She did not look away. She kept looking at me with that sad expression gracing her face. I felt something stir within me. I had never held eye contact with someone outside of my family for this long. It is such a strange feeling. She probably does not know, but the fact that she is still not looking away makes me happier than I have felt in years. But then she did something I never thought I would experience again.

She smiled at me.

It was not a huge smile. Just a tiny one playing on her lips. Directed towards me. Then she walked away. My eyes were glued to the spot where she had recently been standing. I felt tears well up in my eyes. But for the first time in years they were not of misery or pain. They were tears of joy. Someone had shown compassion and I did not know how to react. It was such an unfamiliar feeling.

I will forever treasure this moment. I will lock it up deep within me, where no one can reach it and ruin it. It will be an unforgettable memory.

The first genuine smile I have ever received.


End file.
